


Something to Think About

by 9haharharley1



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batjokes, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, OOC, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5968447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9haharharley1/pseuds/9haharharley1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joker is extremely unhappy with Batman's popularity with the ladies. Based off the Justice League episodes Injustice for All. BatJokes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Think About

**Author's Note:**

> Moved from FF.net. Not beta'd.

It was not every day that someone got the jump on the Batman. At least, it hadn’t happened in a while. Now, there were only three people in Gotham City who could do it: Alfred, Catwoman, and the Joker. The latter happened very rarely.

 

Tonight must have been one of those rare moments.

 

Batman was scaling the roof of a small building when he was hit with something very large and very heavy. When he turned around to look, the Joker was holding a giant mallet, his face flushed slightly and his breathing ragged. There was no Harley in sight and his hench-clowns were missing. And, boy, did he look pissed.

 

When the Joker charged him again, Batman was ready, quickly rolling out of the way. He was on his feet in seconds, dodging the Clown Prince’s frantic swings.

 

“How dare you!” yelled the harlequin. He swung the mallet blindly once more, and this time Batman was able to catch it. He twisted the oversized weapon out of the clown’s hands and flung it to the edge of the roof.

 

The Joker roared in frustration. He had to resort to swinging his fists, punching wildly, simply wanting to get a hit. Batman grabbed one of his wrists, but had trouble catching the other. When he did, he waited patiently as the clown struggled in his hold, eventually tiring himself out. The Bat backed him up, pinning him to the small enclosure that housed the stairs down to the building. The Joker tried to wiggle free, but Batman simply pinned his arms up by his head.

 

The clown let out a low growl. “How dare you!” he accused once more.

 

“What has gotten into you?” Batman growled back. “You’ve been acting strange ever since that fiasco with Luthor.” It was true. The Joker had escaped once since Luthor had tried to blow up the Justice League. It had taken weeks, longer than normal, for Bruce to figure out the Joker’s next plan. Simply enough, the jester had hunted down the Cheetah woman and had beaten her to within an inch of her life. The doctor’s had thought that she would not survive.

 

Once found, he easily surrendered himself over to the Batman, not even bothering to put up a fight, and was in an almost catatonic state on his way to Arkham. Bruce had been puzzled and deeply worried, both for Gotham City and the clown himself.

 

That was two months ago.

 

The Dark Knight was brought back to the present by the Joker’s renewed struggling. He shook his head from side to side; teeth gritted and eyes clenched shut, as if he were in pain.

 

“Joker!” Batman shouted. “Stop squirming! You’ll only hurt yourself!” The jester stopped. Bruce was… shocked, to say the least. Usually, the Harlequin of Hate defied him every chance he got.

 

The Clown Prince of Crime gazed hard at him, green eyes narrowed in anger and something Bruce could not recognize, but was familiar with. But the anger was not directly directed at the Batman.

 

And then the Joker’s tone did a complete 180. “How could you?” he asked softly. Bruce raised an eyebrow, his grip loosening ever so slightly. “How could you?” Joker’s eyes turned sad.

 

Bruce was shocked. The normally strong and proud Clown Prince of Crime was broken and defeated. He was a kicked puppy and Bruce did not know how to make him feel better. The Joker mumbled that same sentence over and over again, quietly. His voice even choked up once.

 

The Dark Knight didn’t know how to handle it. “What is wrong with you? What happened?”

 

And just as suddenly, those sad green pools were angry again, but not at Batman. Never at Batman.

 

“You’re mine!” the Joker screamed. His voice seemed to raise an octave, and Bruce knew now what this was all about. And he couldn’t help but be amused.

 

“Mine, mine, mine, mine, _mine_!” the clown continued. “Not Bird brain’s, not Penguin’s, not Spooky’s, most _certainly_ not the weed’s, and not that wannabe Nygma’s! You are _definitely_ not the Cat’s, you don’t belong to Wonder Bitch or that no good leopard woman! If I’m not allowed to kiss you, than she’s not! Yet, you let her anyway! You are _my_ nemesis! Mine to plan against, mine to hurt, mine to destroy, maim, and kill! You are mine to hate and mine to love. No one else’s. _Mine_. But no; you had to go ahead and have a thing for cats, didn’t you?”

 

Batman was both amused and taken aback. But mostly amused. Joker’s face was screwed up with rage, face flushed, his smile turned to an angry scowl, eyes narrowed. One of the things Batman loved about the clown was that he was so easy to anger. And he was just so adorable when he was angry.

 

“What’s so attractive about them, anyway?” he continued. “They stick their filthy little claws in your cape, latch on, and _refuse_ to let go! Do you know how hard it was to watch you kiss that leopard woman? Do you? She doesn’t even live in this city! She’s not even one of _your_ enemies! And then there’s that feline fatale! She gets to rub in every time you two are together; thinking that she’s better than me just because she has you wrapped around her little finger! How _dare_ her! _I_ was your first enemy! Me! Is it because _cat_ rhymes with _bat_? Is that it? ‘Cause if it is, I’ll – Mph!”

 

And because he was talking way too much, the Bat shut him up the only was he could really think of. The Joker’s eyes went as wide as they could possibly go and his body relaxed completely in Bruce’s hold.

The kiss was short, merely a press of the lips. Bruce pulled back and took in the Joker’s shocked state, amused to no end by the situation. The now red-faced jester blinked stupidly at him.

 

“You were saying?” Batman asked teasingly.

 

The Joker blinked owlishly a few more times before a manic grin spread across his face, and a genuinely happy gleam appeared in his eyes. He leaned in as close as he could to _his_ Bat, arms still pinned to the wall, voice dropping a few octaves in contentment. “If I’m allowed to kiss you, then she’s not. Or anyone else for that matter.”

 

Batman smiled unnoticeably, a barely there quirking of the lips. But the Joker caught it, and his smile grew. “Deal.” And Batman kissed him again, their lips rubbing together sensually.

 

Bruce bit the Joker’s bottom lip, demanding more than asking permission. Joker opened his mouth quickly, moaning at the slight sting and the wet tongue soothing away the ache. He moaned again when their tongues met in a mock imitation of one of their battles. And, of course, Batman won. When he pulled away, the Joker still had that silly, dazed look on his face. Batman smiled softly.

 

“There,” he said. “Something for you to think about in Arkham.” He placed one more, sweet, chaste kiss on those red, red lips and the Joker could only laugh happily.

 


End file.
